Prison Girl
by LadyLoki89
Summary: Takes place after The Dark World. A maid from the prisons gives Odin a piece of her mind in the wake of Loki's death, unaware of who is really listening.
1. Part 1

**Summary: **This was my first Loki fic. It's a 3 part story that takes place after The Dark World.

* * *

**Prison Girl **  
**Part 1**

It was not often any of the maids charged with the upkeep of Asgard's prisons requested an audience with their king, so when the request reached Odin's ears, the pure curiosity of what this was to be about squelched his immediate reaction to turn the young woman away. What could possibly be so important that she would need to see him now?

Yet there she stood, lead in by the guards, and kneeling respectfully before him. "My lord," she addressed him with her head bowed. She was a pretty little thing, or at least as pretty as someone who would work in the prisons could be. Long brown hair tied back, dark brown eyes, a rather thin though muscular form, and a small bundle in her arms. While she could not have been much older than 20, her face showed signs of age and weariness as well as something more that would have been perfectly hidden were he not looking for it.

Grief.

"What business have you with me?" Odin asked her at last, and she held out the bundle in her arms.

"I have some belongings that I believe are yours." She opened the bundle and held up a few articles of clothing, some books, and one or two odd trinkets. Odin looked at them silently for a long time before slowly turning his gaze to the girl.

"I fear you're mistaken. Those aren't mine."

"I think they are," she replied, a cold tone creeping in her voice rather unexpectedly. "They were Loki's belongings. It's only right they be returned to you."

"Is it?" Odin half scoffed.

"Yes," she maintained. "Now that he's dead, he can't reclaim them, and while I would rather hand them over to his mother, unfortunately she's dead as well." She paused, looking as though she were refraining from saying something more and concluded, "So instead I'm bringing them to you."

Odin smirked, clearly amused by the frustration in her face. "I can tell you're angry, child. There's no need to hide it. If giving the items away displeases you, then by all means keep them. I have no use for them."

"With all due respect, sire…" she cut in, the look in her eye showing that all chances of her holding back were now gone. "I didn't ask if you had use for them." Without warning she threw the bundle at his feet, the items scattering, and before he could give the order, the guards moved in, seizing her. "These were your son's!" she shouted angrily at him. "And all he ever wanted was to be good enough for you. And now, even in death you care little. As far as I'm concerned, you're the reason he grew to be the monster he was!"

"How dare you speak to me in this manner!" Odin roared at her, rising to his feet.

"Someone has to!" she fired back. "And maybe if someone had years ago, things would have been different. So do with me what you will, but now you can't claim no one pointed out that your son was your own creation!"

"Take her away!"

The woman was forced away and Odin stood alone in his throne room, staring at the doorway long after she was dragged through it. From beneath his guise, Loki was fuming. "Odin's creation?"


	2. Part 2

**Prison Girl**  
**Part 2**

Loki paced in his chambers alone, brooding. It had been three days since his encounter with the prison girl, and while he knew he had other matters to focus on, he couldn't bring his mind off the words she'd spoken. To see someone finally stand up to Odin about his parenting was one thing, but to have it implied that it had actually shaped who he was…

The scepter in his clenched fist smashed through the mirror on the vanity with ease, and he looked at the shards, his breath making a soft hiss through his teeth. Footsteps could be heard down the hall and, in a flash of green, Odin's face stared back at him in the reflective pieces. The door burst open and guards rushed in, expecting to find an assailant inside.

"My lord!" one of them exclaimed, but Loki held up Odin's hand to stop them.

"It's just a broken mirror," he said. "Have this cleaned up. I have matters to attend to." He stepped out as the guards gave a, "Yes, sir," behind him, and he made his way out of the palace. There was only one way to end this and he knew it. Turning towards the prison, he made his way down there.

The familiar sights of the prison was not exactly a welcome experience, and even the smell that filled his nostrils made him cringe. The many hours of boredom he'd spent there were still burned into his memory, as well as the few hours of anguish after…

A chill ran down his spine if as he realized this place now bore a connection to his mother's death making it all the more unpleasant.

The young woman's cell wasn't very far down the row, and when he came to it, he found her sitting in the very back on the floor, leaning against the wall. Her eyes looked up at him and in a dry voice she asked, "To what do I owe the honor?"

Loki turned to the nearest guard. "Let me in. I wish to speak with the prisoner alone." The guard seemed hesitant, but he obeyed all the same, dropping the barrier briefly so Loki could step through, and then quickly placed it back up. "Leave us," he commanded, and the footsteps behind him told him that the guards had obeyed, and now they were alone.

If the woman was intimidated by Odin's presence, she did not show it. She hadn't so much as moved from where she sat, and he flicked his hand behind him, casting a spell that would keep their conversation from being heard by anyone else but them.

And then he stood silently, not sure of what exactly to say. He knew he had to confront her but he hadn't taken into account that he would have to do it in Odin's form. This complicated things. And yet as he stared at her accusing eyes he could feel his rage rising again. Somewhere in his frustration with not knowing what to say and his over all anger at her, he let his composure slip a little and spoke. "You dare to come before my throne and insult me?" he asked with more anger in his tone than he intended.

"And I'd do it again," she replied, matching his heat in her own voice.

"Why?" he demanded. "For a lowly prison maid you seem to think you saw all when it came to Loki and his upbringing."

"I saw more than you think," she replied. "If you think me to have spoken ignorantly, you are wrong."

"And you make a point of knowing every sort of creature that enters these cells? Bonding with them? Sympathizing with them? Pretending that deep down they're all simply misunderstood souls looking for redemption?" His tone became mocking and she cringed but did not look up. "Do you really believe that Loki was my own creation and that, had I been loving, he would have been different?"

"Yes," she answered, her eyes looking up at him though her face remained downcast. "He was always trying to meet your expectations, to be good enough for your approval. But you never even tried to hide the fact that Thor was your favorite of the two." She looked away from him. "And you never paid attention to how that slowly poisoned him."

"And what would you know of it?" he practically barked back at her and her response surprised him. She smiled, eyes meeting his again.

"My father used to beat me," she spat. "He was a drunk and a fiend, and he used to make me feel like I was the lowest form of life there was. Loki and I used to play together when we were children. Down by the river." Loki's brow furrowed as the memories were sluggishly creeping back. "And when I began to tell him about my father, that's when he began to tell me about his."

He hid it, but his memory had returned, and he knew now exactly who she was.

"He was the only one who seemed to understand how it felt. And even as we grew apart with time, I never stopped thinking about him. When he was brought back as a prisoner, I knew I had to see him again, so I began to work here. I thought that if I showed him I hadn't forgotten, it would help."

"Did it?" he asked. She shook her head.

"He left on his last adventure with Thor before I had the chance to talk to him…" her voice trailed off and she lowered her head, tears rolling down her cheeks. "And now that he's… I think of him even more now… and I regret that we grew apart." She broke down into sobs, but Loki waited patiently for her to finish. "The nights when it was really bad, and all I wanted to do was run away, I would think of him and worry for him. I'd hoped he'd somehow found a way out from under the shadow both you and Thor cast on him. It breaks my heart that he never did." She wiped her face on her sleeve, and spoke no more.

Loki stood silently, debating on what to do with her. Moments earlier, he was certain this confrontation would end in her execution, but now that he knew who she was, the fond memories he still had of their times together as children was making that decision less obvious. And while he was still far from pleased at the implication that he was shaped into who he was by Odin, the fact that she had fully intended to stand up to Odin on his behalf, and seeing after all this time she still remembered him meant something to him.

"So what's it to be then?" she asked. "A lengthy prison sentence, or something worse?"

Loki turned his back to her and removed the spell from the cell, calling out for the guards to let him out. As they arrived he ordered them, "Bring the prisoner back into the palace immediately and have her cleaned up. She is to work as my own personal servant until further notice."

"What?!" he heard her shout behind him, and he turned to face her with an arrogant smile. "Time in prison would teach you nothing. What better way for you to learn to respect those above you than for you to be forced to do so?" And with that he left, her eyes boring holes into his back.


	3. Part 3

**Prison Girl**  
**Part 3**

Nightfall came too slowly, and Loki found himself growing more and more impatient while going about his regular tasks as Odin. But once the proper hour finally arrived, he called for the maids to prepare his bedchambers so he could retire for the evening, and made it very clear that the new girl in particular must assist as well. His orders were followed without question, and when he entered his chambers he found her seeing to it the fireplace was alight while the other two maids were drawing back his sheets and laying out his bed clothes.

"You two are dismissed," he said to them, and they bowed their heads, scurrying past him. The young woman made to leave as well, but he held out a hand to stop her. "You will stay here," he ordered. There was a delay before the door finally closed behind him, but he could tell from her face that she was exchanging sympathetic looks with the other two maids. For a moment he wondered how many of the staff Odin had bedded in his lifetime if this sort of reaction already seemed to come naturally to the maids.

Her eyes on him were dark, but her expression remained controlled. Seeing it as a challenge, Loki thought to himself, _Well now… let's have some fun…_ "If you are to be one of my staff, you are to learn the duties as well." He saw her trying very hard to hide her disgust as she realized that would mean dressing him, and inside he was laughing. It wasn't often he could witness first hand the sight of a woman being physically repelled by his father's less than appealing physique.

"Dress yourself!" she spat, moving to try and pass him, but he caught hold of her arm and struck her across the face, sending a crack echoing through the large room.

"Do not think my mercy is unyielding!" he warned. "I could just as easily have you executed, so I will not warn you again. You will obey me." He knew his fingers were bruising her, but he waited until he could see in her eyes that her will to fight had, for at least the moment, been squelched before releasing her. Exhaling slowly, she began to undo his armor.

"So," he spoke, holding out his arms so she could unfasten everything, "I've yet to learn your name. Not that it matters much now as you are nothing more than my servant, but since you seem to think you were close enough to Loki to warrant such a shameful display, I confess you've piqued my interest. So what is the name of Loki's foolish defender?" She did not answer him, and he could tell in her eyes she was simply trying to finish her duties quickly without listening to him. His hand snapped out, clamping down on her wrist, stopping her, and he gave her a dangerous look.

"…Iona," she answered. He released her and she broke away from his gaze, returning to what she was doing.

"Iona," he repeated, nodding thoughtfully. "How would it feel then to know Loki never mentioned you? For such a 'close friend,' he never bothered to speak of you once." She gave no answer as she removed the last of his armor, but she showed no sign of being bothered by it. "And you were ready to throw your life away for him? Do you think he even remembered you in his final hour? Do you think he even spared a thought for you?"

"I suppose he wouldn't," she answered flatly, moving to unlace his tunic. "In fact, I would almost expect he didn't."

"And for that you would risk execution…" his voice trailed off, a mocking smile on his face. "Why?"

Once again she would not answer and had even stopped undressing him. He turned to reinforce his dominance, but found she was genuinely pondering the answer to that question, so instead he waited.

"I never forgave myself for allowing us to grow apart, I guess," she answered genuinely. "A part of me always felt I allowed him to slip away when in truth he probably needed me."

"Needed you?" he asked in a mocking tone. "And now in death you feel this will do him any good?"

"I didn't do it for him," she snapped, giving him a venomous look. "He's dead. There's nothing I can do for him now. I did it so that I would know you knew the truth. I did it so I could start sleeping at night again, knowing everything he told me when we were children did not fall on deaf ears and that I actually did something about it."

He was unable to stop the hint of disgust that crept into his features. "Then it was all out of pure selfishness. You cared not for him at all you lying-"

"That's not true!" she hissed.

"You've just admitted that you did it only for yourself, so you cannot lie now!"

"I did it because I…" she choked and looked down, clearly frustrated with her emotions breaking down her hardened facade, and looked up at him again with tears in her eyes. "I just wanted the pain to stop." Her hands were balled into tight fists, shaking uncontrollably, and she surrendered to her grief. "I missed him. Every day, I missed him. I knew it, but only barely felt it. But when he died… that one person I'd been able to talk to about anything as a child… gone… And now everywhere I look, I'm reminded of him and I can't shake this guilt I feel for not being there when I should have been. Maybe if I had been… things would have been different. Maybe he never would have ended up in Midgard. Maybe he never would have become corrupt. Maybe he'd still be alive! And then there's you!"

Without warning, she slammed her hands into his bare chest, pushing him backwards hard enough to make him stumble, continuing to shout at him as tears of rage stained her face. "I've been torturing myself over his death, wondering what I could have done differently that would have stopped it from happening. But you, his own father… you don't care at all! If anyone should be haunted with all these questions it should be you! But you're just as calloused as you always were." She stepped away, taking several deep breaths before drying her face. And in the clearest voice she could muster, she said, "I've said all I need to, and I will not serve the likes of you. Do now what you will with me."

Loki stared at her, dumbfounded. There was only one other person he'd known who would have had the nerve to say anything remotely close to that to Odin. And after all these years…

He stepped up to her, grasping her by the jaw, forcing her to look him in the eye, and with his free hand he reached up to the golden eye patch, pulling it off and casing it to the floor. When she saw his green eye looking back at her, her brow furrowed as she gasped, "What?" Taking several deep breaths, he slowly allowed the enchantment to melt away, knowing it was too late to take it back now, and soon it was his own form standing before her. The look of utter shock and horror on her face made him think for a moment she might faint, but her legs did not buckle. She did, however, begin to tremble.

"That's n-not funny…" she stuttered, thinking it was a trick.

"It's no joke," Loki replied, still holding her by her jaw, unsure if he'd release her. Her hands slowly reached up, touching his face cautiously, fingertips tracing over his pronounced cheekbones and over his jawline.

"Oh gods…" she breathed, a film of tears forming over her eyes. "I want it to be true…" As he looked down at the grief that was still very visible in her features, she could see in his face a glimpse of the boy she'd played with once, and any remaining doubt was gone.

"Where were you all these years?" he asked, pain in his eyes though his expression remained cold.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say. "Loki, I'm so sorry!"

"If you cared about me, then why didn't you come and find me? Why did you withdraw from me?"

She threw her arms around his neck and he released her, allowing her body to crash into his in a frantic embrace. "You're alive!" she sobbed into his shoulder. "Oh gods, you're alive!" For the first time in a long time, he hadn't the faintest idea what to do. Try to avoid it as he might, he could feel the threat of emotion overcoming him. To see someone so moved and happy that he was in fact alive… not even Thor expressed this much happiness over his survival the first time he'd left them all to think he was dead. The fact that the situation was somewhat different then was pushed from his mind as he breathed in the scent of her deep brown hair.

Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her, relishing how good she felt within them, and with one hand he quickly flicked out a spell that locked his chamber doors and closed the drapes to prevent anyone from seeing him in his true form. It had been too long since he'd last had a woman in his embrace, and never before had there been one that even made him feel a ghost of a connection. In the heat of sadness, exhaustion, and frustration, he could feel his own body beginning to respond to the lack of peace he'd felt for too long, wanting relief.

And he knew, as tightly as she was pressed to him, it was impossible for her to not feel his desire beginning to press its hardening form against her pelvis.

As he contemplated stepping out of her embrace, she turned her head up to him and met his gaze. In her eyes he could see the same crushing frustration and sadness as well as the exhaustion of having grieved bitterly for the last several days, and he could tell she was seeking the same relief he was, perhaps even more desperately. That was all the permission he needed. His mouth crashed down on hers as his hands busied themselves, hungrily tearing away at the laces that held together her dress, and her nails raked themselves down his back, causing him to growl against her lips. He knew now he could not be gentle even if he wanted to.

Giving up on undoing her dress properly, Loki ran a hand up her spine, gripping tightly a handful of her hair, his hand grasping against her scalp, and he held her firmly as his free hand withdrew a hidden dagger from his pants. Breathing heavily, he guided her to the bed by her scalp and threw her over the mattress, her body quickly twisting to face him, her legs spreading beneath her skirt as she bent her knees upwards and propped herself up on her elbows.

He climbed on top of her, sitting on his knees between her spread legs, and took up a handful of her bodice, forcing the dagger through enough to cut the fabric, but remaining a safe distance from her flesh as he cut it open. The sight of her bare skin that lay beneath made him all the more hungry with desire, and he tossed the dagger aside, ripping the bodice completely open with his bare hands, tugging the fabric down until her bare torso was completely exposed to him. Her hands reached up into his hair, gripping down almost as rough as he had on her moments ago, and she tugged his face to hers, forcing him into another kiss to which he lustfully obliged, his tongue forcing her lips to part as she welcomed him in, practically devouring his mouth.

Holding himself up with one hand, he used his other to explore her breasts, finding her nipples were already hardened in the cool air, his cold touch hardening them even more. She moaned into his mouth as he pinched one, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, and as he felt her hips grind up against him in pleasure, he pulled his mouth away from hers, bringing it down on the other, his tongue flicking it hungrily and his teeth biting down on it enough to hold it in place. Her nails returned to his back, tearing over his shoulder blades and her hips grinding against his throbbing arousal, still trapped behind his pants. Her pleasureful moans echoed throughout the room as his teasing sent wave after wave over her, and she removed one of her hands from his back and slipped it down between them, drawing her skirt up and attempting to discreetly caress her own throbbing sex, unwilling to wait patiently for him to do it himself.

Unfortunately, he had noticed, his hand and mouth releasing the now tender buds, and he took hold of her wrist to stop her, Iona letting out a small whimper of protest. His hands went to his pants, undoing them and tugging them downwards as he brought out his throbbing member. Holding it firmly with one hand and grasping her scalp with the other, he guided her to move forward towards him til she was on her knees in front of him. She didn't need direction; she opened her mouth at once and took him gladly as he held on to her head with both hands and began to thrust himself into her mouth, not allowing her to have any control over the pacing or power of each stroke. She did not object, but remained on all fours obediently as he thrust himself over and over again into her, groaning loudly with pleasure as he hit the back of her throat. Some of his essence leaked out onto her tongue and the taste drove her wild with desire. Again, she attempted to discreetly slip a hand between her legs to caress herself, and when he didn't stop her or even slow his pacing, she knew she was getting away with it.

Loki began to feel the pressure in her mouth changing as her focus was breaking, and he looked down, noticing one of her arms had disappeared beneath her, and he pulled out, pushing her backwards. She landed on her back, her hand still between her legs and his eyes narrowed. "You're impatient!" he hissed, and he pulled her hand away, tore away what little was still covering her as well as fully discarding his own pants, and climbed on top of her as he pinned her wrists above her head and positioned himself at her entrance.

Slowly, he slid himself inside of her, all the way to the hilt, and her walls tightened around him in response, causing him to lose all hope of control. He pulled back and slammed himself back into her, lowering his mouth to her ear, his hot breath caressing her skin as he hissed in a ragged voice, "Say my name."

"Loki…" she breathed in response. He nearly pulled all the way out and waited, his throbbing head barely sheathed inside her.

"Say my name," he breathed again.

"Loki!" she groaned, his thrust slamming into her as the word left her mouth and he began thrusting repeatedly into her at a growing pace.

"Say my name!" he growled, biting into her neck.

"Loki!" she cried in pleasure. His pace picked up and his thrusts became harder. She knew he was nearing his climax. He pulled his head up and looked her in the eye.

"Say my name!" he almost shouted at her.

"Loki!" Her walls tightened around him even further and he slammed himself into her at such a rapid pace, she tore her nails down his back.

"SAY MY NAME!" he roared, and through the violent thrusts she could feel the hot rush of his orgasm filling her.

"LOKI!" she screamed, arching herself into him to deepen his pleasure, and after several more wild thrusts, he pulled out of her, throwing her hands off him as he hastily lowered himself to her sex and stroked her clitoris with his tongue, his hand inserting three fingers into her, quickly finding her core as he brought her screaming to her own climax.

He pulled his fingers out of her, and he sat himself back up on his knees, bringing his dry hand behind her neck to force her to sit up, and he ran his now dripping fingers over her lips. She opened her mouth, sucking his fingers clean as the taste of both their orgasms coated her mouth, and he replaced his fingers with his lips, kissing her tenderly.

Laying back in the bed he beckoned her into his arms and she lay her head on his sweaty chest, silently listening to his heart hammering as fast as her own. For several minutes, their panting was the only sound that could be heard.

Iona, sighing as she traced her fingers over his bare chest, whispered, "I don't love you." Loki smirked, amused at her blunt honesty.

"I don't love you either," he replied, stroking her hair. She shuffled herself closer to him and closed her eyes as exhaustion began to get the better of her.

"But I'm glad you're back," she breathed, her body soon sinking deeper into his as sleep took her.

Loki pressed his lips to the top of her head and drew the blankets over them both. "Thank you," he whispered to her as he fell into a deep slumber.


End file.
